Star Crossed
by PalmyranQueen
Summary: Sarah and Jareth at their angsty, 'I'll get one over on you' best...what more could you want?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimers: Blabla Blabla bla.

Prologue.

He had given her eternity in that instant of time where she had banished him, and her dreams, turning her back on the desires of her own soul for the sake of her brother's. His last gift to her, for he could not find it within himself to give anything more. From now on he was determined to only take from her, as she had done from him, blindly and unknowingly, true. Yet he had been generous, and nevertheless she had spurned him - now she would be brought to her knees as she came to know the cruel side of her dreams. For he would take knowingly and deliberately, until he destroyed her. And thereby destroying himself, for they were one.

Always, whichever form they took, since the dawn of time they had been one flesh, heart, soul and mind. They could no more be seperated than water could from water, or air from air. They were as elemental as earth, oir fire, and as such were dangerous to everything they touched, including themselves.

Time after time their story had unfolded, with endless possibilities and countless variations, never beginning or ending quite the same. Both were reborn without knowledge of the other, with no recollection of previous 'dangers untold and hardships unnumbered.'

Yet they were cursed to go on being reborn, causing eachother unimaginable pain, and simultaneously intense pleasure, until they both found their true form, and could live together for the rest of time, finally at peace. Or as at peace as two such fiery people could be. Cursed, not by outward forces, but by their very souls, by the destructive nature of their love. Only on some occasions did this cruelty show itself, but it was always there, manifested in a glance or word or deed; intrinsic to them both.

From Adam and Eve, Romeo and Juliet, Cathy and Heathcliffe, Orpheus and Euyidice to Jane and Mr. Rochester, Tristan and Isolde, Phaedra and Hippolytus...there were so many fateful pairings that they had known. In every conceivable time, place, world; cocooned in time they had lived out their tempestuous passion until rebirth.

And the winds of time changed, the stars moved, the Sun gleamed blood red for the first time in histroy when they were remade as another pair of star-crossed lovers. Now they were Jareth and Sarah.

Something, somewhere was...different.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimers: Yeah, yeah. I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters therein.

Thank you all for your reviews. Those who were wondering how Jane and Mr. Rochester fit into all of this - Jane Eyre is one of my favourite books, too, and I thought that there were certain parallels between the two romances. Jane denied him, and therefore her own desires and dreams, for the sake of her principles. Sarah denied Jareth, who was an aspect of her dreams, as is made plain by the ballroom scene. So in a sense, they were both cruel. It's a bit weird, but that's how it struck me.

These are all going to be short chapters, I'm afraid, as I'm not really sure where I'm going with it.

He watched her sleeping peacefully, her obviously pleasant dreams causing small smiles to flit across her face. He ignored how beautiful she was becoming, although this was becoming increasingly difficult; with each passing day she blossomed to new radiance to his eyes, and instead focused on his hatred of her. The burning anger and hurt that were festering within his heart, that were gradually becoming the force driving him - his sole interest that threatened to become an obsession, to consume his very soul.

He was aware of the danger, knew that his bitterness was only a maifestation of his love for her, but he disregarded the promptings of his conscience, fueling his violence until it simmered at fever pitch almost constantly.

The diamond-hard, beautifully mismatched eyes gleamed as she shifted position in her sleep, his desire to rend that fair body limb from limb, to claw the pale, perfect skin 'til the blood ran growing. The dark thoughts tormented him, for as he envisioned her broken body he saw his own entwined with it. The image gave him a disturbing sense of peace, and he tore his eyes away from the source of them, pulling back into his own realm.

He restrained himself from taking her with him, although part of him desperately wanted to, because no matter how many different ways he thought of for taking his revenge, they always included Sarah, for some obscure reason, ending up in his power forever.

But this way was best, and he consoled himself with the reflection that, no matter how peaceful her life may be at this moment, she would soon be in as much turmoil and pain as he was. Strange that the thought made him angrier and sadder than ever.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimers: Yeah, yeah. I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters therein.

Thank you all for your reviews. These are all going to be short chapters, I'm afraid, as I'm not really sure where I'm going with it.

Sarah stretched and yawned lazily, giving herself a few minutes to come round. The shrill ring of the telephone shattered the peace abruptly, and she sighed wearily, curling up in to a ball under the warm quilt, determined to wait it out. It's harsh tones went on and on, though, and with a groan she dragged herself out of the haven of her bed and dashed downstairs to her phone table in the hallway.

''Sarah? Is Toby with you?'' Karen's voice said urgently the moment Sarah picked the receiver up, and she watched with fascination her reflection in the huge mirror on the opposite wall as her face drained of any colour and her eyes darkened as the conversation progressed.

'' Why do you ask, Karen?'' she asked, instantly gripping the phone tighter and twisting the cord in her numb fingers, heart rate speeding up. Anything concerning her little brother put her on DEFCON 5 since the Labyrinth.

''Because he's not here - none of his things have gone, and he's not staying the night at any of his friends; I already checked. There's a note on his bed saying, 'Sarah knows where I am. An old acquaintance stopped by.' Toby never wrote like that in his life! He can't even spell 'acquaintance'! Sarah, where is my little boy!''

Deathly silence followed for a moment as Sarah ruthlessly suppressed the rising nausea, and blinked to keep from crying with anger and disappointment. She bit her lip to keep from screaming with betrayal. JARETH!

''Sarah?'' Karen's voice penetrated her step-daughter's wild jumble of thoughts, and she pulled herself together with supreme effort of will. She must be calm, for Karen's sake.

''Yes, he's with me. I thought he could stay for the weekend. I'm surprised he didn't tell you, though - otherwise I would have. Would you like to speak to him?''

''Oh, that's a relief! I was so worried. Yes, I'd like a word, please.''

''Hold on.'' Sarah covered the mouthpiece and shouted up the stairs, ''Toby! Mum wants to speak to you!'' Counting to ten mentally, she put the phone to her ear again. ''He's in the shower, Karen. I'll get him to call you back, but don't be worried if he doesn't. We've got plans, and will be out all day. O.K?''

''All right, Sarah. Have a nice time; give Toby my love, and don't keep him up too late. 'Bye!''

Sarah let the breath she had been holding whoosh out with relief, and slumped against the wall, replacing the receiver as she did so. What did it all mean? she wondered. The crazy notion that had occurred to her as s soon as Karen told her that Toby was missing kept coming back, and **_his_** name was branded in her brain, with warning bright red neon lights flashing round it.

Was it him? The whole thing smacked of Jareth; the disappearance of Toby without a trace, the insolent note that was so clearly meant for her...she ground her teeth at the malicious amusement that had obviously been poured into every word; yet at the same time appeared to be so innocent and innocuous to anyone other than her.

And the leaving the ball in her court, leaving it to her to sort out a mess that he'd created - yes, that was Jareth all over. He wouldn't come to her, but he had made it impossible for _her_ to avoid him. He was quite capable of abducting Toby, a defenseless child, scaring him and his mother half out of their wits - he did it all the time, for heaven's sake!

But why? That it was aimed at her she had no doubt. No one had wished Toby away this time. Jareth's agenda the previous time they met had been focused at her - and she would rather he wanted her than Toby. To have rescued Toby from Jareth's clutches only to have him stolen away and turned into a goblin anyway was intolerable; to know that Jareth was really using Toby to get his revenge on her was something of a comfort. She was more able to deal with him than Toby was.

She sighed and ran her hands through her long, dark hair, steeling herself and her defenses for the ordeal that lay ahead. It was going to be a long day.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimers: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters therein. Poor me.

Thank you all for your reviews. These are all going to be short chapters, I'm afraid, as I'm not really sure where I'm going with it.

Toby sat on the Goblin King's throne, big blue eyes fixed on the various creatures moving about, clearing up the whole Castle. The Goblin King himself - Toby still couldn't bring himself to call the awe-inspiring being 'Jareth' as he had been told to - stood nearby, one booted foot resting on the huge window ledge, staring darkly out across his Labyrinth, riding crop swinging gently to and fro, dangling from one of his gloved hands, which was draped across his knee. The other leant against the wall above him, supporting his head.

They had heard nothing from Sarah, and although it was only the next day, tempers were frayed. There had been no wish to be taken away, no plea for him to appear to her - nothing. What was worse, she had disappeared virtually straight after her step-mother's phone call, during a brief period when Jareth had not been watching her. After all, he had been expecting her voice summoning him, desperation and humility making her call the man she must know had something to do with her brother's disappearance. Instead, she had vanished, and he could not fnd her anywhere.

In consequence he was in a very dangerous mood, harsh and curt at his frowning best - and everyone avoided the Castle when he was at his worst. The thought occured to him that Sarah was either up to something which he hadn't planned for, or had no intention of calling him at all. The awful realization that she may not think he had anything to do with it...but, no. That was impossible. She knew, all right. She wasn't a fool, at least, not all the time.

Toby had found plenty to occupy him; waas indeed fascinated by his new world, that he had no recollection of visiting seven years before. He was well treated by Jareth's many servants, entertained by the goblins, and questioned searchingly by members of the King's Lasare Court on all matters human, which seemed to mesmerize them. He was ignored by Jareth, who was in a painful mood of disillusionment at the present moment, which seemed to be eroding what little good humour he had left.

So they both waited for the answer to their problems to appear, one with all the resignation and optimism of youth, the other with all the impatience, anger and hurt in the world.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimers: I do not own the Labyrinth or any of the characters therein. Poor me.

Thank you all for your reviews. These are all going to be short chapters, I'm afraid, as I'm not really sure where I'm going with it.

Sarah gritted her teeth to stop herself from screaming with anger and frustration as she scrubbed the huge cauldron for the fourth time, under the watchful eye of Jareth's housekeeper. Who was, both literally and metaphorically, a dragon. She was called, most incongruously, to Sarah's mind, Mrs. Waterford, and ruled the Castle servants with a rod of iron. Although Sarah attributed the respect with which they treated her, and the haste generally employed when carrying out her orders, to the fire that could constantly be heard rumbling in the great scaled chest. It was manifested by occasional bursts of steam from her nostrils, and when she was angry, as she frequently was, there were often small piles of ash discovered when the other servants ventured back to the sprawling nether regions of the Castle.

When, finally, the dragon was satisfied with the level of shine Sarah had imparted to the copper beast that played a huge part in the preparation of the Court's meals, and she was dismissed for the rest of the day, Sarah asked herself for the hundredth time why on earth she had come up with this idea. Back at home it had seemed so simple. Call Hoggle through her mirror, step over the boundary between the two worlds as she had seen him do so many times, and hey presto! she was in the Underground. Lovely.

While talking to Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus, and not really getting much sense out of any of them, it had suddenly occured to her that the best way of getting Toby back while avoiding the Goblin King, would be to take a position as some kind of servant in the Castle. That way she could keep an eye on Toby while devising a plan to steal him away, meanwhile trying to discover what plot Jareth was hatching.

So she had persuaded Hoggle to recommend her to the housekeeper, whom he was great friends with. Sarah had nearly fallen flat on her face with shock when she found herself looking up at quite a large dragon, instead of the kindly dwarf she had expected. 'Quite' being an understatement. Sarah later heard that all the passages in the rabbit-warren of kitchens, laundries, pantries etc. that comprised the servant quarters had had to be enlarged especially to accomodate her. Apparently the Goblin King himself had supervised the renovations by magic, taking unusual pains for a mere servant. Such condecsension, Sarah thought sarcastically. But then, Sarah's source said dreamily, His Majesty was always so generous.

Sarah snorted in disbelief again, replaying the conversation in her mind as she made her weary way to her small attic room. She had barely contained her anger at the time, so much so that the other maid had left in some haste, the peas she had been shelling scattering over the floor as she backed out of the room warily.

Honestly! Sarah thought, shrugging out of her clothes and collapsing into bed. All the servants told the same story - they absolutely adored His Royal Tightness. And even Sarah could not find the slightest hint that they were lying to cover themselves from a tyrannical ruler; sincerity shone out of their eyes. They acknowledged his temper, even his cruelty. But they fiercely argued that it was always unbder restraint.

Rubbish, thought Sarah. It wasn't under restraint if he could do this to Toby, to her, and to her parents. She pulled the blanket over herself, glad for the fire's warmth. At least servants were treated well here. Anyway, it was only temporary, just until she worked out just how she was going to take Toby back, and an efficient way of inflicting her revenge.

Revenge. Oh, the word sounded so sweet. She would have it. If she had her way, she would dearly love to see Jareth boiled slowly in oil, but it didn't matter which way he was brought low. She had sworn by her heart's blood that he would rue the day he had crossed swords with her. She swore it again, snarling the words softly into the still room. The shadows cast by the fire flickered fearfully at the force of her words, and coiled away from them, shivering on the walls. Her face in the glow of the flames was cruel, distorted with hate and a terrible resolve.


	6. Chapter 6

Lots of reviews, please! Let me know what you think. Oh, yeah, and I don't own anything.

Toby stared gravely at his remote captor. Quite what was in the King's mind he couldn't tell, and didn't think he wanted to, judging by the fearsome expressions that crossed the monarch's pale, otherwise impassive, face from time to time.

The child was well treated, was fascinated by his new world, and was conscious of a desire to stay here for a while yet. He was slightly worried that these were not normal reactions. He missed Sarah and his parents, and knew, from snippets he'd heard on the television, that he was in a dangerous situation. But then, the Goblin King was not an ordinary kidnapper, and from the scant things Toby had learnt about him, he suspected that the King was more unhappy with the situation than his victim.

Jareth removed his gloved hand from covering his eyes, and lounged back in his throne, beckoning a liveried servant, who jumped forward and bent to hear his master's instructions. He disappeared through the huge Gothic doors that led into the Court rooms beyond the throneroom, and returned almost instantly with an ornate, jewelled goblet filled with a deep, ruby liquid, and handed it on one knee to his liege.

The King accepted it, holding it deceptively loosely in his long fingers. He lifted it to his finely carved nostrils and inhaled the wine's heady aroma, his eyelids fluttering closed in the satisfaction of a sensual pleasure. He was, after all, a being comprised of lusty appetites, and an entirely sensual creature. Which was why Sarah delighted and fulfilled him so. Her astounding beauty was aesthetically pleasing, and the subtle scent that clung to her was the most delicious thing he'd ever experienced. And to feel her supple young body in his arms when they were dancing...he sipped the wine delicately, savouring the smoothness as it caressed his tastebuds. He could still feel her, as if wherever she had touched him had left a burn, and he had an overwhelming need to hold her once more.

He crushed the goblet suddenly, hardly noticing as a servant took the mangled remains from him and cleaned the floor. What was he thinking like this for? He had done with softness, with any feelings toward her but hate and a just thirst for revenge! He stood abruptly, and stalked out of the room, blindly allowing his feet to take him where they would, too many confusing emotions coursing through him to handle without movement of some sort.

Jareth had taken Toby, because he knew that that was the way to get Sarah's most painful attention straight away. It would hurt her, to think that her adored little brother was in the clutches of the man she hated and feared more than anyone else in the world. He snarled sightlessly at the wrought iron gates that led to the Castle's gardens. He pushed through them heedlessly, and strode down a shaded path, flanked by tall poplars and larches whose branches reached towards each other over his head, entiwining like lovers.

He stopped when he reached the top of a steep hill covered with tall grasses and studded with unusual flowers of a bright purple colour, that leaned closer together as he approached and whispered conspiratorially. He ignored them, taking a minute to allow the supreme beauty of his pleasure gardens to soothe his soul, breathing in deeply the fresh air, so clean and pure that it almost hurt the lungs. He revelled in the exquisite pain; just so could he imagine his reaction to being hurt physiaclly by Sarah.

There was a slight sound from below him, and he glanced down towards the Shining Lake, its clearness and silver tint having given it its name. His mismatched eyes widened fractionally as he took in the illicit sight of a woman diving neatly into the water, and surfacing seconds later, facing away from him, water cascading from her bare, graceful limbs and long, black hair. He drew his breath; without seeing her face he could tell she was beautiful. The way she moved, the unconscious appeal she exuded...he moved towards the Lake, at the same moment as the unknown woman heard him, and whirled round. Her flying hair obscured her face, but he distinctly saw her eyes flare with fear and anger, before she was out of the water, clutching her clothes, and had disappeared around the side of the walls. He stood absolutely still, shell shocked. For a moment, he could have sworn that those glorious green eyes belonged to Sarah.


	7. Chapter 7

Lots of reviews, please! Let me know what you think. Oh, yeah, and I don't own anything.

Sarah ran as fast as she could away from the target of her hate and source of her vengeful thoughts. He had seen her naked! Her face bloomed red again at the mere memory. She was flooded with shame and humiliation, mainly because she had noticed, and enjoyed, the look in his eyes as they roved over her naked body in the instant before she had started her head long rush to get away from him. She wasn't ready, she hadn't planned enough yet. He had taken her by surprise, otherwise she would have taken the opportunity to kill him.

That was, after all, what she was still doing here. Every plan that she came up with had some flaw, some impediment that would make it impossible to put it into action. But she was determined to concoct one eventually. He had to pay for the things he was doing to people; stealing away their babies, torturing them for hours in his sadistic Labyrinth, _flirting charmingly with them, dancing seductively..._ She almost fell over. Where on earth had that come from? She clutched the towel about her more firmly. She must be going mad. Perhaps the longer she stayed in this place, the worse she would get.

But she would stay. And she would formulate a plan that would work. She needed to take him by surprise, and slit his throat, or poison him - his food or drink? The possibilities were endless, and she was going to take advantage of them. She was going to win. She reached her room with a satisfied smile on her face. He would pay for that look he had given her_, that had given her goose pimples, made her want to run her hands over-_ she whacked her head with her hand forcefully. Shut up, Shut up, SHUT UP! What was wrong with her all of a sudden?

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Jareth strolled thoughtfully back to his chambers, wrapped in dark broodings, not noticing how his black thoughts were reflected in his eeys, so that all his servants and courtiers gave him a wide berth. The beautiful woman - who had been illegally bathing in his lake; he would have to do something about that - couldn't have been Sarah. Could it? No, surely not. How did she get here? If she was here, why hadn't she come to find him and Toby straight away? How long had she been here?

No, it couldn't have been her. He flung himself down on his huge, silk covered bed, and passed a hand wearily over his brow. He must be going mad. Thinking too much about that damned girl for comfort. Well, when she did finally show up, he had a nasty surprise in store for her. Her life, in exchange for Toby's. It would be pleasing to have her under his control constantly, always at his beck and call. He would have her chained to his bed, perhaps, or - better still - his arm, so she would have to follow him around all day. And then they would see who had won.

It would break her spirit eventually, and then, well, he'd have no more use for her. But until that time she would provide great amusement during the day. He had no doubt that she would fight desperately all the time, and he would enjoy her agonised fury. So he told himself. At night...it would be even more fun. She would have to do everything he ordered, otherwise he would have her punished.

_You fool! The only part of this that's giving you pleasure is the thought of having you by your side, forever. You would sooner cut off your hand than have her tied to it like a dog! She would never forgive you..._

He snarled viciously, sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He was so torn. This wretched voice had been tormenting him for weeks, whenever he was concoting vile plans for his revenge. He had persuaded himself that all he wanted was to hurt her, humble her, tear her apart as surely as she was tearing him apart, _hold her, kiss her, make her cry out his name in ecstasy..._He shook his head hopelessly. The voice again. Would it never stop telling him what he really wanted to do to the mortal brat?

Until he had her in his Castle, though, he could do nothing. So he might as well make use of the time until she decided to grace them all with her presence. He rang the bell by the side of his bed, and waited impatiently.

A liveried servant entered noiselessly, and bowed, waiting for his instructions. ''Send Mrs. Waterford to me.'' Jareth rapped out, and the servant withdrew.

The dragon came, huffing and puffing as she manouvered her bulk through the corridors, and presented her head through the door to her King. He inclined his head, saying, ''You have a new servant girl, I hear.''

The huge head nodded slowly, the fire coloured eyes surveying him shrewdly. ''Yes,'' she rumbled. ''A firey one, but works with a will. Beautiful, too.'' she added, shooting him an appraising stare.

''Have her assigned to take care of my chambers from now on.'' he commanded imperiously, meeting her eyes full on.


	8. Chapter 8

**Lots of reviews, please! Let me know what you think. Oh, yeah, and I don't own anything.**

Sarah was banging her head against the wall of her little servant's room. Hard. She had been banging her head constantly since Mrs. Waterford had informed her of her new position, and how much of a 'privilege' it was, how grateful she should be, what behaviour would be appropriate, etc, etc. She couldn't believe her own stupidity. What was she even doing here, anyway? Sure, her thoughts of a gruesome revenge on Jareth had been sweet for a while, but had she really thought that she, a mortal, could do anything to the powerful Goblin King? Especially in the midst of his own court, with guards and servants and courtiers everywhere to protect him? _Get real, Sarah! _Perhaps she should just grab Toby and go home?

She stopped her onslaught on the room's wall. It was pointless; the wall hadn't done anything wrong, and it was giving her a headache to end all headaches. What she needed now was options. Good ones. Options that did not entail her serving as maid in His Majesty's bedchamber. She knew what _that _would mean. It was Jareth, after all. All the research she had done while back on earth - man, it felt like a lifetime ago; had she really been here only three weeks? What would Karen and her father be thinking? _No, don't think of that, Williams_! - had led her to the conclusion that the current King of the Goblins was indeed a prolific and adept womaniser. That's what all the reference books on Faery/Fairy/Fantasy creatures had to say, anyway. Apparently no woman was safe from his attetnions.

Sarah snorted inelegantly. Huh, right. Well, she wasn't afraid of His Royal Tightness. Here wsa one woman who would never fall for his outdated lines. He could stick 'attetnions' where the sun didn't shine. But she saw no reason why she should put herself in his way. There was also the minor problem of him not knowing that she, Sarah, was actually anywhere near his Castle. If he did, he'd either kill her, or do whatever dastardly thing he'd had in mind when he hatched this plot in the first place...at the best, he would take even greater pleasure in having her serve him. In bed and out.

All this didn't help her one bit. She let out a frustrated sound. What could she do? She put her head in her hands, resting her arms on her knees as she crouched on the floor. Rocking back and forth, her mind raced over everything, considering her actions. Suddenly she stopped, raising her head slowly, a look of self-disgust, tinged with triumph and pride entering her eyes. Why was she thinking in this defeatist attitude? She was the girl who had beaten Jareth at his own game when she was 15 years old, for Heaven's sake! Hell, she was 10 years older, more intelligent, tougher, easier able to cope with men...she should have no problem. After all, he had to pay, didn't he?

Not just for what he did to countless helpless babies and their unwitting families, not to mention using Toby as a pawn to get at her- but chiefly, what he had done to her. He had ruined her adolescence. After the Labyrinth she was haunted by memories, racked by guilt, thinking that she was unworthy to live because of wishing her little brother away. She had taken to harming herself for a year, until, with the biggest effort of self-will and control that she had ever employed, she had dragged herself out of the vicious cycle and gotten on with her life.

He had created a freak. Sure, she had been worlds apart from her peers before he came along, but following his little games she had become ostracized by all her school mates; branded too weird for boys to show any interest in her...oh yes, he had so much to pay for.

So, if she was going to make him suffer, wouldn't it be the best way to pose as his maid, as he had already made the opportunity? Her father had always said to use your enemies for your own good. She could learn so much about her opponent by keeping her ears and eyes open; she would have access to his private chambers at all times - who knew what she could discover as a weakness to exploit?

But it was imperative that he did not uncover her true identity. If he did, then she would be completely in his power, her advantage would have been lost. She shuddered to think of what he would do to her if he ever knew that she was in his castle. If she was to remain undiscovered, she needed a disguise, and fast. Her new duties started tomorrow morning at 6 o'clock. What could she do? She needed a friend...Hoggle! Surely he would help her, as he had done so often during the Labyrinth?


	9. Chapter 9

Sarah looked in the mirror and stared at her reflection in shock. Her delicate hands fluttered out and touched the mirror's surface, then back to drift tenderly over her skin. Her face felt the same; was, in fact the same, but to anyone looking at her...no one would recognize her as Sarah Williams, if they knew her in the first place!

The only features that remained stubbornly the same were her eyes and mouth, but the rest of her had changed so much that she was confident that everyone, notably Jareth, would not even give them a glance. Hoggle had little magic as the Keeper of the Gate, but what little he possessed had been more than enough to perform a simple inverted glamour to disguise her normal appearance - which he agreed would be a red flag to Jareth if he saw her.

Her hair was a vibrant coppery red, which framed her clear, pale skin almost as well as her raven hair had done Her deep emerald eyes went extremely well with the red hair, she thought with satisfaction, glad she had chosen to be a red-head and not blonde. She had asked Hoggle to put some freckles over her normally porcelain, perfect skin, especially the bridge of her nose, hoping to add little details to the image to make it more believable. It seemed incredible ot her that anyone would not instantly see through the glamour, but hoggle assured her that she looked natural. Not only that but it was an inverted glamour - not even Jareth would be able to see through it.

Sarah raised her chin to the mirror, liking what she saw. A perfect disguise. THe only problem with it was that hoggle had not been able ot make her ugly and fat, as she had wished. If she was repulsive to look at, she'd reasoned, Jareth wouldn't order her to his bed. So Hoggle had had a tough time convincing her that the glamour only worked witht he material it had; it couldn't change her appearance completely. So her figure was the same, tall, slim and ethereal, with the barest hint of her womanly curves shwoing discreetly through her maid's uniform. Her bone structure was the same; the same high, prominent cheekbones, but she looked so different that even they appeared changed, and Hoggle was busy weaving his magic to make them stand out more than they did on her normal face.

She stood patiently, until at last Hoggle stood back and regarded her thoughtfully. 'There,' he grunted, unable to hide his pleased smile. 'You're done.' She smiled blindingly at him, and swept him into a fierce hug to thank him. 'Here!' he exclaimed, somewhat dismayed as he noticed her eeyes were swimming with tears. 'Don't you like it?'

'Oh, Hoggle, I love it! I'm so grateful!' she declared, releasing him and standing up to her full height, glancing in the mirror again. 'But I feel so guilty. Will you get all your magic back?'

'Is that what's worrying you?' he asked incredulously. 'Don't worry. The Labyrinth will give me my power back with a week, because it's so little. With someone like one of the Lords or Ladies, it would take more time, because they're so much more strong.'

A tiny frown creased her brow, and she bit her full underlip in perplexity. Attempting to speak lightly and uninterestedly, she turned her traitorous eyes away from his, saying as she did so, 'And Jareth?'

Oblivious of her sharp interest, the little dwarf shook his head. 'He can't use all of his magic up. It isn't possible. He's so powerful, so full of magic that he _is _the Labyrinth, and it is him. He can weaken himself, I suppose, but only to a certain extent, and not for very long. The Labyrinth would be anxious to give him back his power as soon as possible, because while his magic is depleted, so is the Labyrinth's.'

She fixed her eyes on his face. 'For how long, would you say, would he be weakened for?'

He scratched his head thoughtfully. 'About ten minutes?' he said doubtfully. 'I'm not really sure. I'd say that's about the maximum.'

'Oh, well.' she said dismissively. Her brain was on hyper-drive; perhaps she could use this to her advantage? But she was careful to keep her face smooth, and the eagerness out of her eyes. 'Well, I'm ready. I have to be back in the castle by eight o'clock, and it's almost that now. Thankyou, so much, again. I can't ever repay you, Hoggle.' she said seriously.

He flushed, and she grinned before she gave him another brief hug, and left the hidden cave they had chosen to perform the glamour, ducking out and running swiftly back to the huge castle half a mile away. She topped the high hill above it, and saw the dark, imposing building outlined against the glorious sunset, bathed in candle light from inside. She felt her heart wrench at so much beauty, but shook the feeling off immediately.

'Come on, feet.' she murmured, with a wry grin, and walked swiftly back to the Castle.


	10. Chapter 10

Sarah was pacing up and down, up and down, her full, divided skirts swishing angrily about her slim legs with her jerky movements. She was not nervous; oh, no, not at all!

Halting abruptly in her pacing she turned sharply to look out of her window. As personal maid to the King she had been removed from her tiny nook in the servants' quarters down in the mammoth labyrinth of passages below the Castle to one of the topmost rooms in the Royal Chambers.

Her face has been a picture of mingled disgust and admiration as she battled within herself at the beautiful and luxurious furnishings of her room - all too obviously she had advanced to a position of some importance in the household, although she could not for the life of her imagine why.

From her deep, latticed windows she could oversee the entire Labyrinth that held so many memories for her, and she stared out over it now with troubled, stormy eyes, twiddling with one long strand of copper hair.

She had had a slight premonition as to what these glorious surroundings indicated, and she was no closer to coming up with a solution to her problem than before. Given the King's reputation, any maid of his would be his personal whore, as well, and this sneaky suspicion had been confirmed by Mrs. Waterford's fussing over her appearance.

The housekeeper had subjected the affronted and considerably ruffled woman to a sharp-eyed examination, from top to toe, completely naked. Sarah had protested strongly, and had received a whipping for her pains. No matter how far she advanced, the housekeeper was still in complete control, and was in the place of a mother to the younger girls.

She had made no comment on Sarah's changed appearance, merely looking her over and snorting grumpily, muttering, not quite under her breath, 'Silly children! Playing silly games. They deserve each other!'

From which Sarah deduced that the housekeeper knew much more about the situation than she had given her credit for, and therefore could only be grateful to her for not revealing the deception to Jareth. But the kindly and indulgent light in the dragon's eye had not lasted long.

'Flaming tyrant!' muttured Sarah, wincing slightly in humiliation as she remembered trying to be as dignified as possible when held upside down by an 8 foot dragon and spanked to within an inch of her life. Then she realised the pun she had unconsciously made, and groaned softly, a smile flickering at the corners of her mouth.

'Be good. Keep your wits about you.' That had been the last thing Mrs Waterford had said as Sarah left the safety of the kitchens. Words that had not in any way relieved her nerves.

She shivered slightly, rubbing her hands over her arms, and standing pensively in the middle of the room. It was almost time to start her first day; she glanced at the clock, her heart jumping with trepidation. Only ten minutes left before it was six o'clock and she had to go in and make up the fire in Jareth's bedroom...

'-quietly without waking him, girl! He gets in a terrible mood if he's woken up too early.'

Great. Not only was he narcissistic, vain, arrogant, cruel and manipulative, but she was going to have to tread on egg shells while she was around him. Serving him full stop was already making her simmer with fury, but having to do it with an appearance of humility and even acceptance was going to be a real challenge.

But her main problem was how on earth was she going to escape sleeping with him? She had no doubt, now, that that was his intention - why else would he have specifically asked for her to be assigned as his personal maid, straight after he had seen her bathing? Why else would his housekeeper have been so concerned with her servant's appearance and behaviour?

The clock chimed softly, and she jumped, her stomach full of butterflies the size of wolfhoounds. She had run out of time! There was nothing she could do now; she would simply have to improvise as she went along, hoping in all the benevolent fates to smile on her.

Squaring her shoulders, she reached for the door handle, and passed from her room down the small flight of stairs to the huge carved doors leading to Jareth's suite of chambers.

Her mind was yammering at her that this was the worst idea of her life...why not just grab Toby, whom she had been observing secretly for weeks, and leave? Sarah turned away from Reasonableness, and listened to Revenge.

That was what she wanted, and that was what she was determined to have.


	11. Chapter 11

She turned the heavy handle softly, biting her lip in anticipation of a creak or whine, but there was none. Brething an unconscious sigh of relief, she tiptoed softly into the room, thanking her lucky stars for a thick, plush carpet, merely snorting inwardly at a man having such a luxury.

She glided over to the huge, ornately - and, she had to admit, very tastefully - carved bed, and stood for a long moment staring down at him. Her enemy. Strange that he should look so vulnerable in sleep, so innocent. And even more handsome than ever, if that were possible. Yet the lines about his mouth were still cruel, the planes of his face still just as strong and challenging as she remembered them.

How was it possible, she wondered, that even sleeping peacefully, completely relaxed and off guard, that an arrogant cast managed to attach itself about his eyes, and his thin, aristocratic lips mocked her haughtily?

She moved away, frightened by an instinctive urge to reach out and explore the hard bones of his face, touch the beautiful, wild hair that framed it, and especially by the fleeting question of whether his lips would be soft against hers, or as hard and cruel as his words.

Attraction was something she couldn't afford. She'd been aware of it, of course, almost before she'd met the infamous Goblin King, from when she'd first read his silly book, perhaps even before. And during those few hours of hell that she'd endured with him, it had grown to a degree she wouldn't have though possible. So much so that it had been a severe struggle to say the words that would banish him from her life.

Now she just had to guard against it. It was nothing more than the fatal attraction his kind had for hers, nothing more, she convinced herself. And perhaps the susceptibility of a fifteen year old girl for a devilishly handsome rogue with magic.

The twentyfive year old woman shook herself mentally, remembering her purpose here. Her lips curved in a malicious smile; it would bring her much pleasure to see the arrogant, powerful Goblin King brought low, by **_her_** hand.

Sarah strode to the grate, no longer so quiet in her movements. Anger coursed through her, tightening her lips and narrowing her eyes. He had haunted her all her life, it was past time to be free of him. If the question of how she would go on without a single object in life, someone to focus all her energies on, occured ot her, she ignored it loftily.

She knelt, cleaning out the ash from yesterday and laying a new fire. She strained her ears to hear any shift in breathing from the bed, but there was none. She growled to herself, and clattered the fire irons deliberately. Still nothing.

Snarling, she stalked to the bed and reached out a hand to shake him roughly awake.

'I wouldn't do that if I were you,' he said without opening his eyes. She hissed with shock and stumbled back, whipping her hand back out of his reach as he sat up fluidly, the sheet falling sinuously down his body, exposing his lightly muscled torso. It pooled around the top of his thighs, and she flushed, keeping her eyes lowered to the floor, as much from embarrassment as from her orders to show respect for a King.

Hesitantly she raised her eyes to his face, and found herself unable to look away. The mismatched depths caught and held her like a noose, studying her indifferently. As she watched, a subtle change overtook his features; they hardened slightly, and he cocked his head to one side mockingly.

'The glamour is very good, really quite excellent. I applaud you. But it is imperfect, and hasn't been inverted properly. I can see your real appearance quite easily.' The smooth voice flowed over her sensuously, seeming to touch every part of her skin carressingly, although some part of her rebelled at how it was spiced with mockery.

'So,' he continued, getting up from the bed and moving over to a wardrobe. Sarah felt her face flame, and endeavoured to keep her eyes on his face, cursing him viciously. He turned to look at her, and observing each emotion that crossed her face, smiled tauntingly.

Normally he would just have conjured himself some clothes, but...

He opened the wardorbe and chose an outfit at random. He held the garments out to her imperiously. 'Dress me.' he ordered. She started, taken completely off balance, and the colour rushed to her face again. He watched, amused, as she struggled with herself. Fury flashed from the depths of her eyes, and he barely concealed his grin of delight. she really was too easy to wind up.

He grew tired of waiting and raised an eyebrow. 'Do I really have to repeat myself?' He paused, waiting, but she didn't move, seemingly petrified to the spot, only her eyes burning at him. 'Such a pity,' he breathed, and her head snapped up, her pulse jumping in her throat.

'Do you know the punishment specially reserved for disobedient servants?' he continued, spinning his voice out over the room, flowing slowly down her flesh until he saw her shiver. He smiled softly, satisfied, and his voice took on a menacing, nonetheless seductive tone.

'They are stripped naked,' she stiffened; he made it sound more like a pleasure than a punishment. 'Then whipped in front of the entire court until their humiliation is such as covers their crime.' He finished blandly, watching her like a hawk. 'I trust I am not going to have to have you punished thus. Dress me.'

The woman set her teeth and slowly walked over to him. He had an irrisistible image of her dragging her feet like a spoilt child, and screaming, 'It's not fair!' at him, making his lips twitch in real amusement. Baiting her was more fun than he'd thought.

She took the clothes, masking her expression of disdain too late. He ignored it for now, merely watching her intently, disturbingly, as she went about dressing him.

She slipped his silk shirt over his head hesitantly, accidentally brushing her hands over his chest as she pulled it down to cover his upper body. He drew in his breath sharply at the mingled pleasure of silk sliding over his skin, and her hands stroking him.

He raised his arms wordlessly and she touched her lips with her tongue nervously, pulling one at a time through the sleeves. She turne in the circle of his arms and they were melded together for a heart stopping second before she moved away hastily.

She was so close he could hear the pounding of her heart, feel her warmth, smell the exotic, spicy smell that surrounded her. She took his breeches from him and knelt before him, and encased his legs in them. The tightness of the breeches necessitated her running her hands over the hardness of his thighs to remove any creases, and he concentrated extremely hard on nothing.

He had never expected anything like this, his reaction to her was painful in its intensity. She stood up slowly - it occured to him fleetingly that she flowed sensuously - and they stood together, almost touching for a long moment.

She made to move away, but he stopped her easily, pulling her back against him, lifting her hair away from her neck and breathing hotly against her neck. A sigh escaped her, and her head tilted to allow him access. He smiled, stroking his sure hands down over her throat and sides.

'Now, let's remove that glamour, shall we, hmm?' he murmured silkily. Still in a daze like state, drugged with desire, she was unable to move decisively, indeed the words barely penetrated her fogged brain. 'Yes,' he breathed, 'it hardly shows your true beauty, Sarah. I think it has served its purpose, and as it didn't work, you can have no further use for it.'

Her eyes snapped open at his use of her name, and she whirled away from him violently, but he had already shattered the illusion. She stared at him, horrified. He had known. He had known all along. Her eyes took in his half completed dress, and she shuddered, covering her eyes with one hand. She had, she had...

Fury, tearing and strong filled her, and her eyes when they met his were blazing green fire. 'You bastard.' She said with the coldness of extreme emotion. 'How dare you try and use your little parlour tricks on me? How dare you attempt to seduce me? You are such a cheat - you can't get women by yourself so you have to use magic to do it for you.' She sneered in contempt.

He raised his eyebrows, waved a hand and was fully clothed. She seemed impatient at the delay in his reply, and he bit back a smile. 'Actually, I wasn't using magic, my dear.' She stared at him incredulously for a moment, then glared at him.

'You're lying! Why should I believe you?' She spat at him, clenching her fists.

His eyes darkened and he took a step towards her. She stepped back instinctively at the light in his eyes, but he carried on remorselessly until she was against the wall. 'I don't give the snap of my fingers if you believe me or not! But know this, for it will not be necesary to tell you again, that Royalty in the Underground cannot lie. It is physically impossible for them. A little genetic trait that is very useful.'

He saw she was about to open her mouth to argue, and spoke harshly over her. 'Oh yes, little one, we can deceive. Masters at it in fact. Thousands of years trying not to tell the truth without lying will do that fro one.'

He stepped away from her, and she was able to breathe easily agin. Caught in his stare, she had felt like a dazzled rabbit in headlights, unable to move, frozen with fear. She cleared her throat.

'So, dear Sarah, you think I was attempting to seduce you? My, my. How your mind does run on one topic!' he smirked at her, showing a hint of teeth. 'And for your information, I hadn't even started.'

She ground her teeth in impotent rage, and turned to slam out of the door. His voice trailed after her, light and mocking.

'By the way, Sarah...' She waited furiously at the door, her back quivering with outrage.

'Where's my breakfast?'


	12. Chapter 12

It was only as they each fumed in silence as they went about their respective tasks for the day that they gradually came to realize that neither had actually addressed the extremely pressing issue that had occupied them both for the past few weeks.

They had been so caught up in the moment, the battle of wits, the overpowering need to put the other at a disadvantage, that Toby, blackmail and revenge had completely slipped their minds.

Sarah halted in making his bed, swore, and whirled to the door. Jareth dismissed the various petitioners for favour that were kneeling in front of him with a curse, and rose fluidly from the throne, exiting the Court chambers with long, easy strides that ate up the corridors.

They met as each was rounding the corner at speed, and collided. Painfully. Stunned, Jareth staggered back a pace, blinking to clear his vision, and rubbing his stomach thoughtfully to get his wind back.

Sarah turned the air blue with all the coarser swear words she could think of as the impact of colliding with his hard chest pushed her off balance, and she teetered wildly on the edge of falling over completely, arms windmilling, as he recovered himself.

She had forgotten he could move like a cat when he wanted to. Just as she thought she was about to lose all dignity and end up sprawled on her backside in front of him, he flowed forward and caught her strongly by the upper arms, his fingers closing like vices around her flesh, and pulling her hard against him to correct her balance. Both breathing raggedly, he held her immobile in her position, perfectly flush against the full, lean length of him.

Sarah concentrated on regulating her breathing, although a shallow pant was all she could manage with him so close. From her vantage point, she could feel his heart hammering in his chest, and as she breathed softly against the perfect bare skin of his neck, it sped up fractionally.

Suppressing her smile, she made to pull away...and failed. Looking up at him in surprise and gathering indignation, their eyes locked as he slid his hands down, one to grip her firmly and implacably about the waist, the other to brush his thumb gently over her palm, teasingly gentle.

Her breath hitched in her throat, and she raged inwardly at the daring devilment in his face, and the amused smirk that crossed his features fleetingly as her pupils dilated.

Clearing her throat to get rid of any huskiness, she said softly, 'Let go of me, you arrogant jerk! We need to talk. And don't think you rubbing my hand is going to distract me or make anything easier for you!'

Apparently deaf to her demand, he dragged her arm through his, and, maintaining his intimate grip on her hips, pulled her along with him as he strode down the corridor. She struggled furiously, blind panic lancing through her at her foolishness. He could do anything; this was his realm, his people. He was so much stronger than her...she looked desperately at the servants passing by, pleading with her eyes, but they either looked away shamefacedly or looked through her as if she wasn't there, even when they bowed and curtsied to the monster beside her.

She struck at him with her free arm, sobbing with anger and helplessness. 'Let me go! Damn you, let me go!'

All she got for her pains was a glance down and an enigmatic smile. Redoubling her efforts, she writhed away from him, kicking and scratching as she attempted to come into contact with his flesh. Tiring of her, he stopped long enough to shift position so she was pinned to him, chest to chest. 'If you continue to struggle I will carry you over my shoulder,' he said conversationally, with just a hint of threat underlying his words.

Her answer was a stony look, and as they began to move again she wrenched herself out of his hold, and took to her heels. She had not gone two steps before his arm hooked round her, and she was thrown up in some disorder over his shoulder. Her small fists beat at his back futilely, but for all the heed he paid them she might as well not have bothered.

Eventually he came to a halt, but long before she had exhausted her store of vicious and descriptive epithets that she spat at him fluently when she realised she couldn't hurt him physically. She was set on her feet abruptly, but the blood rushing to her head casued her to lose her balance, and this time the Goblin King did not see fit to stop her falling.

Collapsing onto the ground in some disorder, she glared up at him, propping herself up on her elbows. He smiled infuriatingly, and knelt down in front of her gracefully, in deliberate and mocking contrast to her inelegant sprawl.

'Here we may talk undisturbed,' he drawled, his eyes never leaving her face, he too standing, as she backed away and lurched to her feet. 'No one comes here,' he continued. 'In fact,' he said, looking around with pride and a tinge of - was that nostalgia? Sarah thought incredulously - 'I doubt if anyone in the Castle even remembers that it exists...'

She stared at him in perplexity. He seemed to have completely forgotten her presence, and seemed to be talking more to himself, or, and this scared her more, an unseen entitiy in the room itself. This part of the Goblin King she did not know, and unfamiliar ground unsettled her. He was acting as if she and her business here was of no consequence whatsoever, and that was intolerable.

Grinding her teeth, she walked up to him and punched him forcefully in the chest, saying loudly, 'Hello? Earth to Jareth, King of Jerks!! Focus, will you?'

His head snapped round, his eyes narrowing dangerously as her regarded her. Sarah swallowed hard; she had never seen someone look so angry. But he just stood there, watching her with those disturbing eyes, making no move to punish her for her behaviour. For goodness' sake, couldn't the man see she was spoiling for a fight?

Raising her chin, she put her hands on her hips and matched him stare for stare. 'Last I heard, 'talking undisturbed' meant actually using one's vocal chords,' she said sarcastically. He remained absolutely silent, and she sighed, bored. Time to liven things up a little.

The hint of a malicious smile tugged at her mouth, and quick as a flash she lashed out, punching him in the jaw. Taken completely by surprise, he staggered, his hand automatically going to his chin in stunned realization, cursing savagely. Sarah giggled helplessly, and his eyes moved to her swiftly.

He lunged for her, and she shrieked as he lifted her quite off the floor and shook her violently. Setting her on her feet and pulling her to him, he flicked his hand, and Sarah clutched at him in fear as the ground lurched beneath her, and she had the dizzying sensation of flying through the air.

When the nauseating feeling had subsided, she ventured to open her eyes, and immediately released him, stepping back quickly in consternation. She had been clutching his shirt with one hand, the other wrapped tightly about his waist. She couldn't have got any closer had she gotten into his pants with him! she thought in disgust.

Then she took in her surroundings, and shivered slightly. There was no doubt about it. It was an oubliette...the darkness wrapped around her, seemingly a live thing; the damp walls closed in on her, suffocating, crushing, smothering, stifling-

She didn't notice when she began to scream.

Light drifted over her eyelids, beckoning to her. A tiny frown creased her forehead, she had been having such a lovely dream, and there was no way she was going to leave it just to wake up. More light poured in, and she heard curtains being pulled sharply back, clattering over wooden rails. Her frown became worse, and she groaned angrily. Couldn't they see she was trying to sleep?

Her eyes flickered open reluctantly, and she stretched and yawned before sitting up slowly. As her eyes travelled round the room, she sat up with a jerk and cursed. Jareth's private study. She had cleaned it often enough before being promoted to being his personal whore, and was perfectly familiar with its disappearing door, secret tunnels and sumptuous decor.

She slid off the sofa and moved over to the desk in front of the window. Throwing a cursory look around the room, her hands fluttered over the papers on its surface, before trying the drawers in turn. Locked. Sighing in exasperation, but unsurprised, she sat down on the huge gilt chair and ran her probing, sensitive fingers over the wood between the drawers.

Just as her index finger found a slight depression in the wood and she pressed it in triumph, Jareth appeared suddenly in the room through the door that randomly decided to disappear at will. Taking in Sarah sitting in his chair with her hands in his secret drawer, and guilt writ large on her face, he advanced into the room.

'Good morning, Sarah, I trust you are quite recovered?' His mouth quirked into a slight smile, seeing how warily she eyed him, expecting him to punish her for trespassing. He might yet; he was furious with her for finding his secret drawer - full of very important documents - but he could not forget the look of terror on her face when he had dumped her into the oubliette...and her screams still rang through his head.

Arching an eyebrow, she leant back quite at her ease, in his chair, and propped her feet on the precious wood, replying casually, 'Yes, thank you, I slept wonderfully.'

'Good,' he said briskly, 'because we have things to discuss.'

'Yes, ' she broke in, bouncing up from the seat, and coming round the desk to stand in front of him, jabbing her finger into his chest accusingly, 'why _are_ you a tyrannical, despotic, spoiled, petted, immoral jerk?'

Stunned, sparks of anger leaped in his eyes - she thought for an absurd moment that they had devils in them - and his hands shot out, one gripping her hair and pulling her head back so that her neck was exposed, the other clutching her waist and holding her fast.

She did not move, the only sign of a reaction her quickened breath. He suddenly became acutely aware that she was bent back, completely vulnerable, her breasts heaving with her agitated breath and dressed in her maid's shift, which did not leave anything to the imagination.

He leant forward swiftly, and pressed scalding hot kisses down her jaw, her neck and onto her chest, moving up to kiss her lips with brutal fierceness for a very long time. It was only when he'd finally let her go and she had run swiftly out of the room after staring at him with burning eyes, did he realize that she had not struggled once.


	13. Chapter 13

Sarah fumed in her room. How dare he?! Rage choked her, she fought for breath resolutely, determined not to allow him to gain this small power over her. Pacing furiously, concentrating on all his iniquities, going over and over his crimes, his mocking words, the humiliation when he had forced her to dress him...

Her cheeks flushed anew with wrath and embarrassment, she flung over to the window, gazing sightlessly out over the formal gardens, the lake - another hot flush - the beautiful rolling park that stretched out until it lapped the high, bleakly beautiful walls of the Labyrinth.

Grinding her teeth, pressing nervous, trembling fingers to the bruises on her wrists and sides from his brutal hold, she lashed herself with recriminations. Had she resisted him? his arrogance, his conceit, his ever-present allure? No, she had all but played into his hands, allowing him to enrage her, touch her and mock her. He had been master of the situation, she the spoilt child of fifteen, crying, 'It's not fair!'

'That's right, it's not fair,' she whispered, 'but that's the way it is.' Squaring her jaw, she sank down on the bed, pulling her long hair over her shoulder and stroking it in a characteristic gesture which signaled deep thought. Those who knew her best would have shuddered, for so she looked, with her rapt stare and huge eyes, when she was most dangerous.

_If I'm to win this time, _she thought, _I must employ different tactics. He's too clever; he has my measure already, knows I want revenge. Well then, I need to lull him into a false sense of security. I can wait. I have all the time in the world at the moment. But I must get Toby home first. _

On this resolve she began to focus her mind on the solution to the problem of transporting Toby back Aboveground; Jareth was not likely to give up his only bargaining tool easily, but Sarah was determined.

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Days went past as she went about her duties, ministering to Jareth's needs, avoiding him whenever possible. He kept her hard at work, so much so that she was convinced he was doing it deliberately. All the other servants, especially the women, openly envied her, but she could not imagine why, as she was constantly on her feet from dawn to dusk.

His calls of 'Sarah!' came frequently and at any time; she would have to drop whatever she was doing and dash to attend to him. She had little leisure time in which to weave her plans; she was forever having to press Jareth's laundry, groom his horse, stand behind him at meals, serve him food and wine, read to him, tidy his room etc.

She bore it all in grim silence; she was aware he watched her like a hawk for any signs of hesitation or refusal, consistently trying to aggravate her temper as the days wore on. But she had herself well in hand, she was resolved not to give him the satisfaction of piercing her armour. Only her tight lips gave testimony to her inward rebellion.

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One day, about a month into her servitude, she slipped away silently before another imperative summons could come from the King, and glided, wraith-like, to the wing of the Castle in which Toby was kept.

She was ever more conscious of the surrealism of her situation: despite her resolve to have revenge on Jareth, she as yet had made no effort to exact it; she was in a different, magical world that was completely in the control of the monster she hated; had been there indeed, five weeks and should long ago have gone back into her world...which she would have done, had she not believed whole-heartedly that Jareth needed to have some sort of retribution for his crimes against her.

Her worry for Toby had been in a way responsible for her hesitation in attempting to get back at Jareth - suppose something were to go wrong and she failed, would Jareth be cruel enough to visit his wrath on Toby's innocent head, instead of her own? She did not trust him for one moment not to, knowing as they both did that if he used Toby thus, it would hurt his sister far more than if she had been punished.

Therefore, she had no choice but to send Toby back home before she made any move to hurt Jareth; that way, she would be the one to pay the price. She no longer cared what happened to her after that - her world seemed to have narrowed to her coldly burning desire for revenge, and nothing else affected her.

Pausing, both in her reflections and in her steps, she inched forward to the door of Toby's set of magnificent rooms. It was slightly ajar, and she looked furtively around, confirming she was alone before fixing her eye to the crack.

Inside, Toby was sat cross-legged on the floor, opposite Jareth, both concentrating fully on a chess board between them. Both were surrounded by luxurious cushions of every size and colour, Indian- style. Servants lined the room, standing against the wall, ready to run at his slightest bidding. As his horrified sister watched, he turned and asked one politely for the fruit bowl.

With a bow, the liveried servant turned and left the room, returning shortly with a huge gold basin full of all sorts of fruit, both recognizable and unknown to Sarah. He set it down next to Toby, bowed, and backed away to the wall.

'Thank you,' murmured Toby abstractedly, moving a Bishop against Jareth's Knight and taking it. He looked up jauntily, smiling in pleasure at having advanced slightly, but Jareth shot him a devilish grin, and proceeded to take his bishop, and thereby placing Toby's King in check. Toby's face fell, and he sighed, seemingly resigned to this situation.

Evidently, Sarah had entered the middle of a conversation, and she wished she had heard all of it as they continued between long bouts of silent concentration.

'How are you treating her?' Toby asked, pausing to drink from a gem-studded goblet a servant rushed to give him at Jareth's raised finger. _Was that wine?! _silently gasped his indignant sister, nevertheless pleased that her little brother was taking an interest in her welfare. _Another crime to chalk up to Jareth, he's turning my ten year old brother into an alcoholic!_

'Horribly,' answered Jareth with a grimace. 'It's no more than she deserves of course, in fact, when I first planned all this I'd intended something a lot worse, but I feel that this IS the worst thing from Sarah's point of view. She's at my beck and call at all hours, in complete slavery to me, of all people!' He grinned slightly. 'I'm well aware she hates me more that anyone else in the Universe, and has some silly ideas of revenge for this latest crime.'

Her hand stole to her cheek in horror. _He knows!_ was the thought that drummed through her head, closely followed by, _He knows me better than I thought. _

Toby was nodding approvingly. ' I know you're finding it difficult to be harsh with her, but it's the way to go work if you want Sarah. She'll never respect you otherwise. I know her. She'd crush anyone that she knew loved her if she didn't love them back and if it suited her.' He paused, his head a little to one side, considering. 'I think only you could control her.'

_What?!_ yammered through her numbed brain. _What has Jareth done with my little brother? He's ten years old; no ten year old speaks like that!! How dare Toby encourage Jareth to treat me badly? As to the rest, rubbish - I-! Wait a minute. Is he saying- Jareth LOVES me?!_

'Hmm, you may be right. I didn't realize that despite my wild thoughts of trapping her, imprisoning her, hurting her as she did me so long ago, it would be so difficult to maintain them when I see her every day. She disarms the deadly anger that I know I'm capable of, although she does try my patience unlike anyone I've ever met.'

'All I can say is never let her guess you have feelings for her, until the time is right. She'll trample on them and you if you let her.' replied her brother calmly, as if he was as old and wise as the eccentric man in the Labyrinth with the hat, thought Sarah sardonically.

She had passed from red hot anger to white hot fury, and it was directed at her brother. She could not understand why, but he was attempting to orchestrate not only a reconciliation between her and Jareth, but some kind of romantic relationship! She scoffed mentally. _It'll never happen. _And he was using some uncannily perceptive insights into her character to do so. She thought she had concealed her darker side so cleverly from everyone. Except Jareth. _**Your eyes can be so cruel...**he knew then, and he knows now, and he STILL accepts and loves me! _she thought wonderingly.

Evidently, Toby had known all along too. Maybe he had been as changed by the Labyrinth as she had been; this strange maturity and wisdom, this adult way of talking was almost definitely a symptom of the ancient magics brushing them. She had hidden hers away, feeding on its radiance greedily when all around her seemed bleak and dreary.

Her brother, it seemed, had even been able to hide it from her, and had altered in a different way to her. She had felt her soul enlarge, her horizons broaden, her emotions sharpen and strengthen. He seemed detached, intellectual, _old. _

She moved away, and she saw Jareth's head jerk up, and he looked straight at the door. Panic tore through her, and she fled soundlessly from the passage to the safety of her room.

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The next day, she performed her morning duties for Jareth in an uncharacteristic silence - she quaked inwardly, wondering whether he had seen her and known she had been eavesdropping. She was trembling slightly as she dressed him, each touch of their skin jolted her and prickles ran up and down her spine.

As soon as she could, she escaped from him, slipping out of the door hurriedly as he dismissed her. Flinging a shawl round herself, she sped from the Castle, throwing a backward glance over her shoulder to check that no prying eyes noted her departure. She was lucky; there were no servants in the gardens or surrounding fields, and because it was so early, none of the gentry would have stirred yet.

She could only think of getting to Hoggle - he had helped her with her glamour, and he was the only person that she could trust who had magic enough to do what she wanted. She hurried through the maze, taking turns and paths almost by instinct, the secret to the maze being locked inside her brain because she had already defeated it once. Each devilish change it made to confound the runners through it was automatically just _there, _in her brain without her having to think about it too much. Something else she hadn't told Jareth.

She was out of breath when she came across Hoggle, sitting silently next to the small pond just outside the gates of the Labyrinth, and she flopped down in front of him with none of her usual grace. He stared at her in surprise and reluctant pleasure, saying gruffly, 'I see he stripped the glamour off you, then.'

'Yes, he did, the jerk! AND he-' she glanced at Hoggle's face, and decided against continuing the account of Jareth's dealings with her. Hoggle might get the silly notion into his head that she needed defending, and might even (horrible thought!) complain to the King about his behaviour. That would never do. She needed the little dwarf where he could be of use, not stuck in an oubliette.

'Well, anyway, he's not going to get away with it!' she finished rather lamely. Hastily, she hurried on with the object of her visit. 'Look, I don't have much time. He's going to be furious with me as it is for sneaking out. Do you think you could transport Toby back Aboveground, even if he's not knowing about it or willing?'

He looked at her in shock. 'It's very rude to transport someone without their permission!' he told her, and she gave a sigh at the ridiculous code of honour that ruled the Underground. It seemed to permeate every level of society, although from what she'd seen, when it came to her, Jareth didn't seem hindered by it.

Patiently, she explained the situation, using all the persuasiveness in her power to put her side of the situation over.

'So I could much more easily sort Jareth out if Toby were safe, and out of Jareth's reach for bargaining purposes or reprisals.' she finished rapidly, casting worried glances at the huge orange sun which was peeping over the horizon.

'Hmm.' Hoggle appeared deep in thought, and she sat still, fretting impatiently at the delay. 'I've got it!' he exclaimed finally, making her start out of the reverie she had fallen into. 'It can be done,' he continued, regarding her solemnly, 'but I better not tell you how I'm going to do it, because then if he-' a jerk of the head indicated the Castle, 'asks you, you can honestly say you don't know.'

Sarah kept to herself the inevitable reflection that Jareth would not believe her for a moment, and thanked him. They arranged that Hoggle would have that day to gather what he needed for the spell, and then he would transport Toby without his knowledge from the Castle at 6 o'clock the next morning, when Sarah would be waking Jareth up and so she would have a cast iron alibi.

With a quick hug, Sarah was gone, dashing back to the Castle as fast as she could. Even then, she was made to endure a very unpleasant hour with Jareth, wincing occasionally from his acid tongue as he condemned her manners, her morals and her idea of punctuality. He finished up with a caustic denunciation of her attitude towards service, and explained kindly that she had put herself in this situation and so should make the best of it.

At this point, Sarah lost her temper and retaliated, cursing him with all the most violent oaths she could lay her tongue to, earning herself extra chores in the process.

When she had left the room, slamming the door with a bang that reverberated throughout the whole Castle, Jareth passed a hand over his eyes.

'That,' he murmured aloud, 'did not go well.' A smile crossed his face and his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter at Sarah's language. Although refreshing and a part of her that made him want to kiss her until she had no breath left for curses, it was hardly appropriate in his future Queen. But then, nor was being a servant.

He frowned. Things were not as they should be. Sarah had taken too much control of the situation by arranging to come here as a servant. Grinding his teeth, he thought of Hoggle, obviously her means of transport. The only reason he'd refrained from dropping him in the Bog of Eternal Stench was his usefulness as a gate-keeper. And, he admitted reluctantly, the fact that Sarah would never forgive him.

But that, he thought with a predatory smile, was becoming less of an issue as the days continued. Having her constantly near him was proving a severe tax on his control. Soon, if she was not careful, he'd release the iron hold he had on himself and she would be swept along in the blaze of his passion, whether she liked it or not. Then they'd see who was in control of the situation.

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With a fast beating heart Sarah went to wake Jareth the next day, sick with apprehension lest anything go wrong with Hoggle's plan. Outwardly calm, her face relatively serene, apart from a few scowls and a stream of invective hurled at Jareth's head when he managed to snatch a kiss as she was dressing him, there were butterflies the size of wolfhounds frolicking in her stomach. They changed direction when there was an enormous bang from the direction of Toby's rooms. With a curse, Jareth disappeared, his face set and forbidding. Feeling distinctly ill, she followed as fast as she could.

She arrived outside Toby's rooms and hovered undecidedly by the open door, looking in on the scene of madness. Jareth was standing in the middle of the carpet, arms folded, his eyes blazing with anger, his mouth shut hard as servants flew about him, turning over every inch of furniture, examining the walls, looking under cushions, and - Sarah had to suppress a giggle - one even went so far as to try and look under Jareth. After the sinner had been retrieved from out of the window, the servants were peremptorily dismissed.

Concealing herself carefully, Sarah watched, holding her breath as Jareth frowned around the room, then murmured a few words and conjured a crystal. Concentrating fully on it, he said clearly, 'Show me all the events inside and immediately outside this room from a half hour ago until this moment.' Her mouth dropped open in horror. There was no way Hoggle would get away with spiriting Toby out of the Castle, and he didn't deserve to be punished just because he'd done something she'd asked him to do. For a split second she hesitated, then did the only thing that occurred to her that she could do to avert disaster.

Hastily stepping into the room, drawing her skirt about her in nervous fingers, she moved so she was standing within a few inches of Jareth, nose to nose. He blinked, his concentration broken, and the crystal disappeared. Taking a deep breath, she stared into his eyes for a long moment, then took his face between her hands and pressed her lips to his. He stood, rigid, as her hands fluttered down to slip inside the V of his shirt, skimming lightly over his chest, stroking his heated flesh. Carefully, she stepped forward, molding her body to his, deepening the kiss with a sweep of her tongue to open his mouth. Tentatively, she caressed his tongue with hers, feeling a sweet ache settle deep inside her body at the intimate gesture.

Breaking the contact, she pulled back, stepping away from him completely, gazing with slightly glazed eyes at him. He looked back, stunned for a moment. Then with a growl, he closed the gap between them and snatched her into his arms, dipping his head and crushing her lips with his. Helplessly, her shaking arms came up to grip his shoulders, whether to push him away or pull him closer she had no idea. He lifted her clean off her feet, still devouring her mouth with his, using his tongue in such a way that left her trembling and confused, her whole being centered on his. His eyes as he pulled away briefly were so dark they were almost black, and seemed huge, filling her whole world.

She was horrified to hear a small moan slip out of her throat at the loss of his harsh, demanding mouth on hers, and his answering reaction was electric. Tossing her up into his arms, he strode forward with her, in the direction of his rooms.

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	14. Chapter 14

Sarah shivered slightly and wrapped her arms around herself protectively as she moved gracefully, but absently, slowly, down the side of the long, gracious gallery. Eschewing the life-size gilt framed portraits of various members of Jareth's family, she stayed close to the outer wall, which was lined with floor length glass windows, resulting in a well-lit, airy corridor which was Sarah's favourite refuge in her rare moments of peace.

Able to meander freely within the Castle and grounds, she escaped whenever she could, to the extent that she could. Always, always two stern faced, heavily built Elven women shadowed her. Unobtrusively, as befitted her station as the King's Mistress. The Lady, as she was called. But all Sarah saw as she looked about her were iron bars, prison keys and chains. She was granted privileges, removed as she was from her serving status officially, but they were the very things that formed bonds round her throat and hands.

Mistress. Slut. Whore. Harlot. The words followed her wherever she went; they were there in the sly, sideways glances from servants and nobles alike. Either contempt, or worse, pity. Whispers swirling round her still, straight backed form as she passed from one room to the next, white faced, lips folded. She didn't allow herself to notice the laughter, the cruel rumours, the blatant stares.

She even felt her guards' pity filled glances, and her spirit rebelled against it. Anything rather than pity! It was her fault, she admitted fiercely to herself as she paused at a window and gazed, unseeing, out at a silver misted Labyrinth. If she hadn't have used herself as a distracting agent...but she had and what's done is done. What's said is said.

Toby was forgotten. _All I ever wanted, _Jareth told her, between urgent, gasping kisses, _was you. _And now he had her, as surely as if her plans of revenge and retribution had never existed.

How I have been humbled,' she murmured wonderingly to herself, with a slight shake of her head. 'All my brave words, all my plans have come to nothing. He has more power over me now than he has ever had.'

'You spoke, my Lady?' inquired one of her guards gruffly, stepping forward.

'No. No, thank you. I was just...thinking aloud.' she replied, turning to look at them. Instantly they looked through her, their implacable masks slipping firmly into place. Sarah sighed. She was so lonely; it would have been nice to have someone to talk to, even Jareth's creatures set to guard her, watch her every move and report back to him at the end of the day. She glanced away, not realizing the raw pain, anguish that they had seen in her eyes, causing them to turn away, not wishing to intrude on such a private agony.

Since that frantic afternoon when Jareth had picked her up in his arms and had spent the rest of the day teaching her just how much power he had over her, he had taken her and used her at any time. She fought him; the first time she had been too desperate to distract him, but she fought with a viciousness now that entranced him. They neither of them had the wit to perceive that she fought him because he did not want her for anything else.

He would appear silently, her only warning a static electricity along her skin, then steal his arms about her waist from behind, nestling his chin into the crook of her neck before turning her round and devouring her mouth. In front of whoever was around at the time - servants, the Court, visitors...and there was nothing she could do about it. She lived or died at his say so, having no status in this realm beyond that which he saw fit to grant her. She was a commodity, replaceable.

Which was why she knew he only wanted her to fill his needs. He did not go out of his way to spend time with her, he did not call for her to sit with him, ride with him or eat with him. She was left to herself to do whatever she wished. _I will not disturb you, you can go your own road. _His words echoed through her head with a coldness that chilled her soul.

'How long do you mean to keep me here like this?' she had asked quietly. _Forever. _'I can't live like this.' _Live without the sunlight, precious thing. I've had to. _

What had it been? Weeks? Months? She ran a hand over her face tiredly. She was not even allowed to become wan and thin with pining away for a real life. Ladies maids oiled and massaged her daily, scenting her body and hair. The housekeeper herself saw to her food, and her exercise was regimented. She felt like she was in boot camp. And all so she should be seen to be desirable to their King.

'When I know it's having _me _under his power that actually turns him on!' she thought angrily, trying to whip up some righteous indignation. All she felt was tired. That, and his hands resting on her hips. She had been so deep in thought she had not noticed her usual reaction to his presence. Her skin thrilled to his touch, just as her stomach roiled with disgust.

'Partly,' he murmured, amused. 'That and your delicious moans. Although,' he paused and turned her round within his embrace, 'that fiery defiance of yours is most...enticing, too.'

She reared her head back away from his kiss, flickers of anger coursing through her at his words, and his frown snapped into place. 'Don't defy me, Sarah,' he breathed, tenderly tucking a stray lock of hair behind one of her ears.

The tenderness of the action made her traitorous heart clench, and she closed her eyes in an effort to avoid the tears. 'I defy you. Always.'

A sigh, patient, all passion under restraint. 'When will you ever give up?'

Her eyes flew open, colour strong as emeralds. 'Never,' she hissed.

A swift grin lit his features. 'Good! Just the way I like it.' he purred, and she gagged slightly, even as his suggestive smile made her stomach churn and her body tighten. 'Now. Are you going to come willingly?'

She arched her brows superciliously. 'Didn't we just have this conversation?' she asked, an ironical inflection very evident in her voice.

A smile of genuine amusement crossed his face, and she winced. They could have been like this. At another time, in another world...they could have had open, honest, fun-loving moments together. They could have been right, underneath all the pain and challenge they caused eachother. But it could never be now.

'Fine.' he said flatly, as the silence stretched, and before she knew what was happening her dress was ripped at one shoulder and she was up against the opposite wall, her skirts hiked up about her knees, him in between her legs, lapping at her throat. Tears of humiliation coursed down her cheeks as she saw her guards hastily turn their backs, stony faced, one each side of the couple to ward off any intruders.

Her fists flailed uselessly, her nails and teeth alike had no effect on him, except perhaps to cause that low growl which reverberated through his chest and caused her to tremble. She bit back a moan, and barely realized what she was whimpering in the midst of her despair.

'Please don't! Not here. If you care for me at all, not here! I beg you.'

Suddenly noticing she was struggling against nothing, she stopped and opened her eyes a crack. She was released gently, and she fell slowly to the floor, a trembling hand moving to pull her dress back over her shoulders, covering her exposed breasts. She gulped back sobs of embarrassment and helplessness, as well as anger at the very definite response her body had made to his assault.

She ventured to look up, and saw him staring down at her, an arrested expression on his face; the desire fast dying, being replaced by - regret? 'Thank you,' she choked out, barely above a whisper, but he heard, and his expression became grim. She flinched involuntarily; she had never seen such a stern look on his face before...anger, yes, but never an expression so immovably forbidding.

He noticed her flinch, and his eyes became flinty. 'May I go now?' she managed, her heart still pounding.

He nodded curtly, and she attempted to rise. Her legs gave way beneath her though, and she reached out desperately to him for some support, only to see through dimmed eyes him tall figure receding along the gallery. Her guards were either side of her in a moment, obliging her to lean on them as she made her retreat to her new, spacious and luxurious rooms.

Her muffled sobs continued long into the night.

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She waited with baited breath. Surely she had displeased him. Now what? Death? Banishment? Back to being a servant? She sat, lost, in the huge four poster bed in the suite of rooms that were joined to Jareth's by a secret passage. The traditional route for all the kings over the ages to arrive in their mistress' room without anyone else knowing. What Sarah supposed was an open secret, since everyone must know about it.

Sitting in a shaft of moonlight with her chin propped on her knees, silent, rapt, as she thought furiously, she was every inch the remote citadel, white witch that Jareth called her.

She was preparing, trying to lay plans against every eventuality. How would he act? How would she cope? But it was very difficult to build defenses when his behaviour was so inexplicable. Instead of the adverse judgment she had expected coming within a few hours of the painful episode in the gallery, she had been left in peace. Anxious hours had turned into days.

'What are you up to?' she whispered. 'Stalling for time...playing cat and mouse, maybe. A form of Chinese torture - making me sweat for days before you deliver the final blow?'

He must have been avoiding her. Her movements had been as usual; breakfast, bath, massage, oiling, walk, lunch, rest, reading, massage, walk, dinner, bed. Day in, day out for a week and a half, and she hadn't seen him in all that time. Before, he would have had her every day, sometimes more than once.

Was he so angry? Did he not care? That was a new thought, and she sat up, suddenly alert. Was he finished with her now, bored? Would he find another to take her place, then throw her out in the cold?

She glanced down, and was shocked to see that her slim fingers could turn into claws. 'I wish them joy of him, and they shan't have him!' she spat, somewhat irrationally.

'Oh, Jareth. My black, evil heart. What have you done to me?' Her humiliation had made her feel dead inside, ashamed of responding to his physical advances as she had been...now her body ached for him, her eyes strained to see a flicker of his cape, her ears to hear the echo of his voice.

Tears leaked from her eyes and she blinked them away angrily. This would never do. She needed to be free, as free from all this emotional mess as she had been when she first arrived Underground. Then she had but one purpose - revenge. To execute judgment on a sinner for his crimes...not against humanity, but against her. He had ruined her life so effectively that he had become an obsession, and it seemed he was doing it all over again.

Revenge...oh how sweet it sounded! As long as he was dead, then she could finally be at peace. Then maybe they could forgive each other, and in turn be forgiven.

She shook her head and lay down to sleep, unaware of the eyes watching her from another part of the Castle. She lay, cocooned by slivers of dreams as they caressed her and she snuggled into the covers, allowing her mind free rein to flit through the bright array of dreams that had not died, that were calling to her softly as she hovered on the brink of sleep.

When she awoke, she remembered what vision had come to her in that moment, and she smiled as she thought of Death stalking the walls of the Castle.


End file.
